Wordlessly, she walked to the closet and pulled out a duffle bag, throwing it on the bed next to him. She began ripping clothes off hangers and throwing them towards the bed, not caring where they fell at the moment. Jeans, shirts, everything was flying. Hastily she started to shove them into the bag, forgoing folding them.
"Jude…please."
Ignoring him, she stalked to her dresser and pulled out undergarments by the handful and going back to her bag, dumping them on top of the clothing thrown in. Her attempts to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks were fruitless and they dripped down her cheeks leaving hot wet streaks as she zipped up her bag.
"I'm leaving." She sniffled, "Once you figure out what you want from me, as a wife, call me. But don't bother until then. Tell D that I'm on vacation."
"Jude you can't do this, please don't do this." He reached out for her wrist and jerked her back to him, her duffle back falling out of her grip.
"Let go of me Tom." She whispered, looking up at him through her wet lashes.
"Don't leave Jude. Please." His face softened but still held onto the secrets he clung to so desperately.
"I can't do this over and over again, please, let go of me." Acting on impulse, he resorted to a tactic he knew would work.
He kissed her.
The sight of her broken and hurting, the tears on her face, it was the only thing Tom could think to do. He dropped her wrist and pulled her close to him, his arm holding her securely at her waist. The heat that radiated off of her pink damp skin burned him and the salty kiss they shared was intoxicating. He felt her melt against him, her resolve diminishing as she took the initiative to deepen their shared moment.
They each searched for parts of one another that they had never found or explored before and only once dizziness had set in, did they pull away. She could feel his heart pounding through his chest as he held her close, her body swaying as she saw stars before her eyes.
Reaching to remove herself from his hold, she looked up at him one last time, his eyes held a torrent of emotion and his panted breath hit her face gently as she gathered the courage to do what she had to do.
"I have to go." Leaning down, she picked up the all but forgotten duffle back and jogged out of the room, wiping away the tears that blurred her vision.
Jude flew past Anna who was still at the table pretending like she heard none of what had just transpired. The door opened and slammed shut behind Jude but Anna continued to sit, poised like usual with her mug and book.
Several minutes passed and life still had not surfaced from Tom's bedroom. Anna had the patience of a saint though. A twenty one hour labor will do that to a person. She would wait as long as it would take. The minutes slipped away and turned into an hour, and finally, fifteen minutes after that Tommy finally emerged from his room.
Afraid to sit down at first, he skirted his way around the table to the kitchen where he retrieved a bottle that was nestled in the freezer and a glass tumbler from the cupboard. Pouring the clear liquid into the glass, Anna peered over the rims of her reading glasses to silently observe him. She had known her grandson for as long as he had been breathing and she knew he wasn't okay with what had happened.
The bottle was put back into the freezer and he carefully moved towards the table, taking a seat across from his grandmother.
"Tout comme ton père."Anna stayed masked by her book.
"Excuse me?" Tom set his glass down, looking up from the swirling poison.
"You heard me. Tout comme ton père"
His face hardened and they stared each other down, Anna's book now disregarded as she dog eared a page and set it down.
"Pourquoi faire face à ses problèmes, quand on peut se mettre à picoler ?"
"Ne fais pas ça, Grand-mère."
"Why not? She loves you Thomas. She's dying inside because you can't open up to her. Tell her. Tear down those walls and let her in. Because if I was her- and she's a lot like me, I wouldn't stay. But instead, you screw up and let her run so you can get drunk tonight."
"I went back to Jude."
"C'est pourtant ce qu'a fait ton père. Mais nul n'est immortel."
"Jude, Honey, it'll be okay. Calm down sweetheart." Mason sat next to her on the couch, rubbing her back soothingly trying to calm her down. It was an attempt in vain though, she had showed up an hour ago in tears, her mascara running down her puffy and swollen face. She dropped her duffle bag and flung herself in to Chaz's arms when he opened the door to their unannounced visitor.
Unsure of what to do, he called Mason over and let her latch on to him, Chaz running off and making himself scarce for the next hour.
"It's not going to be okay!" She wailed into the shoulder of Mason's now tear soaked shirt.
"Honey, can you tell me what happened?" Mason looked around the living space for any signs of Chaz…still missing. That bastard.
"Won't talk…and kissed me, then I left. He doesn't love me anymore." Jude pulled herself away from his shoulders for a second and then grabbed the sleeve of his t-shirt, blowing her nose loudly into it.
Mason's face scrunched up in distaste with his best friends snot all over the sleeve of his t-shirt. "Oh sure hun….feel free to use my shirt."
"Mase, you're such a good friend to me. You listen to me, you talk to me. Why did you have to be gay?" The tears sprung forth from her eyes again and she flung herself back on Mason's frame, nearly knocking him back onto the couch.
"Uhh..I'm sorry? But Jude, hun, you love Tommy. You guys are perfect for each other. I'm sure this whole thing will just blow over in a day and you'll be back to your usual selves who can hardly keep your hands off of each other."
Some sort of muffled response came from Jude, who was still busy wailing out incoherent fragments of speech when Chaz finally reappeared with a mug of something hot and steaming.
"Jude, why don't you drink this. It'll help calm you down, promise. When has chamomile not helped, right?" Mason pried her arms away from his neck and urged her to drink the tea so he could have a break, possibly go change her shirt. Nodding weakly, she took the mug from Chaz who was sitting beside her now and Mason got up, saying that he'd be back in a minute.
Walking off to his bedroom, he peeled off his wet shirt and tossed it on his and Chaz's messy and unmade bed. Heading to his closet, he pulled another shirt off of a hanger and slipped it on. He then headed to the dresser in the room and picked up his cell phone, flipping it open and quickly scrolling through the list of contacts. Reaching the one he was looking for, he pressed send and brought the phone up to his ear.
"You've reached Tom's phone…"
"Ugh. Of course, of all the times you ever had it off…" Mason rolled his eyes and flipped the phone closed, replacing it back on the dresser. Heading back towards the living room, it was strangely quiet and his pace quicken, concerned that something else had happened.
Chaz was cradling Jude's limp body against his own, carrying her away from the couch.
"Oh God, what happened? Is she okay?" Panic crept into the younger man's voice but his partner just laughed at him.
"Promise not to get upset?"
"I promise nothing, is she okay?"
"Fine, don't worry. The tea that I brought her might have one of those sleep aid gel caps poured into it." Chaz smiled sheepishly, readjusting Jude in his arms.
"You slipped my best friend a roofie!" Mason whispered fiercely.
"She's calmed down though, right? Let me go set her down in the guest room. I'll be right back."
"A freaking roofie. Thank God we're gay. I don't feel like having accusations flung at me." Mason rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's retreating figure.
A/N Time: I'm guessing you all want translations, eh? They are as follows:
"Tout comme ton père."
"Just like your father."
"Pourquoi faire face à ses problèmes, quand on peut se mettre à picoler ?"
"Why face your problems when you can hit the bottle?"
"Ne fais pas ça, Grand-mère."
"Don't do this grandmother."
"C'est pourtant ce qu'a fait ton père. Mais nul n'est immortel."
"And so did your father. But no one's immortal."